


Professor Granger

by Sriracha_Girl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/M, Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23711479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sriracha_Girl/pseuds/Sriracha_Girl
Summary: At the Battle of Hogwarts, Lord Voldemort betrayed Severus Snape, erroneously believing him to be the master of the Elder Wand. However, what if Snape were to have survived Nagini's bite thanks to the help of Hermione Granger? This story follows the return of Hermione to Hogwarts as the new Transfiguration professor. Eventual Snape/Hermione.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 30
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

It was an early June morning when Hermione received her eighth letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, casting its golden rays over the grassy fields surrounding the Burrow. The young woman sat perched on the front steps of the grand magical home, a steaming cup of tea gracing her lips as she skimmed through her well-loved copy of _Important Modern Magical Discoveries_.

After monetarily thanking the delivery owl, Hermione eyed the unexpected letter with great confusion before pealing back its wax seal. Although she never officially completed her education at Hogwarts, she hadn't expected to be reenrolled following the events of the Second Wizarding War. Three years had passed since the battle had left Lord Voldemort and unfortunately, her beloved school, utterly destroyed. Professor McGonagall, now headmistress of the institution, had announced a temporary closure of Hogwarts for reconstruction. Despite having magic as an aid, restoration of the school to its previous glory had taken far longer than expected.

An involuntary grin pulled at Hermione's lips as she gazed upon the familiar curly font. She had loved her time as a student at Hogwarts and would be lying if she said she didn't often wish to return. The abrupt ending to her studenthood was certainly disappointing. Hell, she didn't even get to take her N.E.W.T.s! Perhaps Hogwarts was offering a redo year to those who wished to forego such an opportunity.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_We are pleased to offer you an interview for a staff position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please respond in a timely manner informing us of your interest and availability._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress_

Hermione was completely dumbfounded by the two mindblowing sentences. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined such an invitation. Minerva McGonagall, one of the most powerful and revered witches alive to date, considered her to be qualified for a position at Hogwarts! Or for an interview, at least. She had always been confident in her academic and magical abilities, but to receive an interview felt too good to be true. She had to respond immediately!

Jumping up from the front steps with newfound energy, Hermione burst through the front door in search of some parchment. "Stay there," she called after the owl, not wanting to wait until the following morning to send her response letter. "I'll be right back!"

After quickly locating her stash of writing essentials, Hermione started her letter off with a passionate and quite longwinded page of thanksgiving, wanting to ensure that McGonagall was aware of her deep appreciation. She then went on to express her enthusiasm for the interview and her desire to fulfill the attributes looked for in an employee of Hogwarts. Following those paragraphs, she began detailing her availability down to the minute, sure to include evening and night hours to provide plenty of flexibility. It was at this point in the letter that a half-asleep Ron Weasley stumbled down the stairs in search of the noisy evildoer who woke him.

"Bloody Hell, Hermione! It's so early."

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled, entirely preoccupied with her urgency to respond to the headmistress.

"What's that?" Ron asked, taking note of Hermione's letter that was beginning to resemble an essay. "Feel bad for the bloke getting that in the mail!"

Usually, Hermione would be quick to construct a witty clap back, but her spark of enthusiasm could not be extinguished, even by Ron's grouchy sarcasm. "You'll be happy to know that I'm writing to Professor McGonagall. She has offered me an interview for a position at Hogwarts!"

"You're kidding," Ron gasped, suddenly freed from his zombie-like state. "They want you to teach at Hogwarts?"

"Maybe! Although they didn't explicitly say I'd be fulfilling a professor position," she responded thoughtfully.

"That's amazing, Hermione!"

In a moment of excitement, Ron instinctually went to pull the young woman into his arms but froze at the last second. Hermione's cheeks burned with embarrassment. The atmosphere between them had been awkward deciding to end their romantic relationship, despite promising to maintain a friendship. After a small moment of uneasiness, Ron resorted to a few gentle pats on her back before heading back to the pantry in search of some breakfast.

"At first I thought they were going to have us back as students," Hermione mused, hoping to break the tension as quickly as possible. "It looked so similar to the acceptance letters we received each summer as kids."

"Let me take a look," Ron mumbled through a food-stuffed mouth, happy to relieve the awkwardness as well. Hermione nodded toward the refolded letter to her left, granting him permission to examine it. While he read it over a few times, Hermione was able to put the finishing touches on her own letter.

"Done! I hope the owl's still here."

"Best hope so. It'd take a century for Errol to get that thing all the way to Hogwarts."

Sure enough, the mail owl had stuck around and appeared quite anxious to be on its way. Hermione graciously thanked it once more before sending it off to Professor McGonagall. "Should I send an extra? In case this one gets lost," she asked Ron anxiously.

"Relax, Hermione. Have some faith in the little guy!"

By now, the sun had made its full appearance in the sky. Warm air and a gentle breeze replaced the chilliness of the early morning, promising for a beautiful summer day. Hermione sighed, embracing the calming atmosphere in hopes of alleviating her nervousness. Over the last several years, her self-esteem had grown remarkably. Through achieving exceptional marks in school to hunting down and destroying Horcruxes, she truly regarded herself as an achieved witch. However, envisioning herself as equal to wizards like Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, and Minerva McGonagall seemed outright impossible. "Well, maybe that prat Trelawney," she scoffed to herself.

Returning inside to fetch her own breakfast, Hermione watched as Ron ran about the magical home readying himself for another day at the Ministry of Magic. Despite their disagreements with the once-corrupt governing body, he and Harry had both pursued careers as Aurors following the war and thus found themselves employed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. In the last few years, the Ministry had undergone significant reform under the leadership of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Rid of dementors, pro-pureblood laws, and other corruption Voldemort had brought about, it was now a reasonably enjoyable organization to work for.

"See ya," Ron called as he climbed into the fireplace with a handful of Floo powder. As per usual, he was dressed in a hand-me-down suit that barely covered his wrists and ankles. Hermione smiled and waved, remembering the days when she would leave the Burrow alongside him. Following the war, she had also been employed by the Ministry of Magic and had worked tirelessly to further her cause for the better treatment of house-elves. The movement, at first, was a success, for the reformed Ministry was excited to work toward diminishing old pureblood biasses among wizards. However, as time passed, enthusiasm for the cause slowly died away until wizards were back to ordering elves around like nothing ever happened. Hermione, feeling frustrated and betrayed by the Ministry, decided to leave and pursue the cause from a different angle. The problem was that she had yet to discover said different angle.

During both her employment and unemployment, the Weasleys had been gracious enough to provide her with both a home and a family. With both of her own parents now completely unaware of her existence, the housing arrangement was a saving grace following the war. When Ron had asked his mother and father about taking her in, Mrs. Weasley had laughed, expressing that she'd already readied one of the vacant bedrooms for their new housemate. Even after Hermione and Ron had broken up, the Weasleys insisted she stay. "You're family, Hermione. Don't you dare think about leaving!" Mrs. Weasley had ordered when Hermione first started dropping hints about moving.

Now that the employment opportunity of a lifetime was on the horizon, Hermione couldn't help but fantasize about leaving the Burrow to reside at the grand Hogwarts castle once more. Her residence there would certainly be different from her time as a student, but perhaps for the better. She'd likely have her own living quarters, not to mention an all-access pass to the restricted section of the library! A mischievous grin played at her lips as she imagined the top-secret literature she'd finally get her hands on. With permission, that is.

Grabbing her freshly poured bowl of cereal, Hermione returned to her perch at the front steps of the Burrow. It was too beautiful a day to remain inside and a tiny piece of her hoped that an owl, by some miracle, might arrive within the day with news of her interview.

"Professor Granger," Hermione whispered, testing the strange title out on her lips. It felt oddly natural. Perhaps she was meant to become an educator all along.


	2. Chapter 2

Severus Snape traced his slender fingers across the rosy puncture marks scarring his neck. It had been over three years since he'd received the wounds at the Battle of Hogwarts and nearly lost his life. He remembered with perfect clarity the cold indifference in Lord Voldemort's eyes as he commanded the snake to kill him, all for the allegiance of a wand Snape himself didn't actually master. Draco Malfoy, at that time, was the true master of the Elder Wand.

As Nagini lunged at him with lightning speed, Severus knew he'd reached his end. The fangs pierced the flesh of his neck with rough ferocity, yet he only felt the weight of the snake as his consciousness instantly began slipping away. As his vision blurred at the edges, he watched as Voldemort left him to die alone, solely set on finally killing Potter with the Elder Wand he, the Dark Lord, now truly mastered.

Not a minute after, Severus was surprised to hear the creaking of footsteps entering the Shrieking Shack. Suddenly, Harry Potter kneeled beside him, his friends Hermione and Ron watching closely behind.

Barely alive, Severus knew that he needed to take advantage of the boy's arrival. There was still so much Harry needed to know. So many truths Albus Dumbledore had left in mystery. "Take them," Severus whispered through shallow breaths. "Take them to the Pensieve."

Harry quickly understood that his former Professor was referring to the tears trickling down his cheeks. He urgently turned to his friends in search of a flask or anything else capable of capturing the liquid. Hermione swiftly retrieved a flask from her little beaded handbag and shoved it toward her friend.

"Look at me," Severus croaked as Harry finished collecting the tears. Conflicted sadness tightened the young man's features as he directed his gaze into the eyes of the dying man before him. "You have your mother's eyes."

Darkness consumed Severus's vision as he uttered what he believed to be his final words.

"You guys need to go. I'll stay and help him. Hurry!"

The world around him vanished, but his continued ability to hear told him that he was at least somewhat alive for the time being. Two pairs of rushed footsteps departed the Shrieking Shack, leaving behind a single presence: Hermione Granger.

Severus felt the furious shaking of the young woman as she kneeled beside him to examine his wounds. He didn't know how horribly mangled the snake had left him, but judging by Hermione's flustered mumblings, the damage was quite severe. Listening to her as she considered a variety of healing spells aloud, the man recognized that Hermione Granger was truly the only student he'd ever trust to save his life. She was undoubtedly the brightest witch he'd ever taught, regardless of her know-it-all tendencies.

"Well, this should at least stop the bleeding," Hermione murmured, wand pointed at the bite with feigned confidence. "Vulnera sanentur."

The single spell was enough for Severus to finally slip into complete unconsciousness. One-by-one, each of his remaining senses slowly dissipated until all awareness was gone.

In those moments, his life had been placed in the hands of a 17-year-old witch who believed him to be an enemy. Fortunately, something deep within Hermione had been persuasive enough to compel her to fight for him. He still didn't know what that 'something' was.

"Severus," the familiar voice of Minerva McGonagall called from the office doorway, several pieces of inked parchment clenched at her side. Severus jumped at the sudden interruption, having been deeply entranced by the vivid memory. "Ms. Granger has agreed to an interview."

Severus nodded in acknowledgment, attempting to appear indifferent at the news.

"She specifically asked me to inform you of her immense gratitude," Minerva continued, eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

"Thank you, Minerva," Severus snapped dismissively, returning his attention to the book he'd been reading.

Minerva smirked to herself, humored by her colleague's predictability. "We will hold the interview this Friday at 5 o'clock sharp. I expect I'll see you there?"

"Of course," Severus agreed, not trusting the woman to handle the process of hiring new professors on her own. Or to remain unbiased. "Good night, then."

"Good night, Severus," Minerva laughed, entertained by the man's characteristic desire to be left alone.

As soon as Minerva exited, Severus shut the book he'd been struggling to read all evening in defeat. It was surely past midnight and he'd failed to achieve a sufficient night of sleep all week. In preparation for the coming school year, he'd been spending countless hours revisiting his old Potions curriculum he'd taught years ago. Much to his pleasure, he would be returning to the position of Potions professor at Hogwarts for the coming year. Apparently it required almost dying for him to realize that he couldn't continue to deny his talent and passion for the subject.

Closing the door behind him, Severus murmured a spell beneath his breath to seal his office shut for the night. Tomorrow he'd be interviewing an older wizard for one of the open teaching positions, followed by another long afternoon of lesson planning and classroom organizing. He hated to admit it, but he really was excited about returning to the normality of teaching young witches and wizards again. "Even those helpless first-years," he chuckled amusedly to himself.

As soon as his head hit the pillow, Severus drifted into a deep sleep that would carry him through the night. This year, life at Hogwarts would return to its old sweet simplicity and he was truly grateful for the peace it would bring. Finally, the conflict and chaos of his life would be put to rest.

Or, so he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Much love, friends.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a little less than a week since Hermione received a letter confirming her interview time at Hogwarts. Since receiving the initial offer, she'd been preparing for the meeting for several hours each day, considering any possible questions or topics McGonagall might throw at her. She'd even convinced Ron to hold mock interviews each evening when he returned from work, despite him considering it to be unnecessary. "Hermione, you've got it in the bag! Can't we just play some Wizard's Chess?"

The sun was high in the sky as Hermione walked through the small village of Hogsmeade. She'd apparated there late that morning to cram in some last-minute studying with a tea at Madam Puddifoot's. Her interview was to be held at five o'clock sharp, meaning that she needed to be somewhat quick in her journey to Hogwarts. Somehow, she'd lost track of the time while rehearsing classroom management questions, even with a stomach full of restless butterflies. McGonagall would surely deduct points for tardiness, so she needed to hurry.

As the Hogwarts castle slowly peaked over the hilly horizon, Hermione's heart filled with the warmth of returning home from a long journey. The school looked absolutely magnificent amidst the sloping lawns, dense forestry, and glassy waters of the Black Lake. It looked nearly identical to its wonderful appearance during her time as a student, save for a few remaining damages in need of attention. To the Muggle eye, it would probably be quite scary-looking but to Hermione, it was only beautiful.

Pulling a small pocket mirror from her trusty handbag, the witch held it before her for a final hair-check before entering school grounds. For special occasions, she always relied on a bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to tame her unruly curls. Sure enough, the concoction was upholding its promise to smooth her locks, so she returned the mirror to its place before entering Hogwart's main entrance.

As Hermione passed through the wrought iron gates, Minerva McGonagall stood about thirty meters away, gazing upon her former student with welcoming eyes. "Ms. Granger. What a pleasure it is to see you again."

"Hello, Professor," Hermione nearly cried, the emotions of seeing her beloved teacher consuming her. "It's so good to see you, too."

The two entered the castle immersed in a spirited, much-needed conversation. McGonagall asked Hermione about life at the Burrow and whether she planned to continue her S.P.E.W. efforts, while Hermione asked all about the process of rebuilding the school. The younger witch quickly noted that McGonagall's characteristic sternness had been replaced by a relaxed, almost carefree attitude. Perhaps the woman allowed herself to let loose a little during the summer holiday.

"Your interview will be held in my office," McGonagall explained, directing Hermione into the circular moving staircase. "I expect the others have already arrived."

Hermione gulped, not having expected company beyond the witch beside her. She hadn't a clue of who else might be in attendance for her interview, but the prospect of answering questions before a panel of wizards sounded horrendous. How had she failed to prepare for such a circumstance?

"Montrose Magpies," McGonagall spoke clearly to the familiar gargoyle standing guard. It stepped aside obediently for the correct password, granting the witches entry to the office. Hermione's entire body tensed as she entered the grandiose room. Even the stress of her O.W.L.s was incomparable to the nerves she was experiencing then.

"Calm down," she murmured desperately to herself, her professor now beyond hearing range.

"Come along then," McGonagall called warmly, taking her seat between the two additional presences. Hermione entered, giving her best effort to appear relaxed and confident. She walked across the room toward the single chair facing McGonagall and the others, careful not to trip over her own feet. However, as soon as her gaze connected with a familiar pair of dark, penetrating eyes, she involuntarily froze in her tracks.

"Ms. Granger," the man acknowledged her, words laced with cool indifference. "Please, have a seat."

Hermione clenched her teeth, disallowing her jaw to drop at the sight of a very-much-so alive Severus Snape. She had heard that the professor made a full recovery since the war, but seeing him upright and perfectly conscious still surprised her. The last time she'd seen him, he had been drenched in his own blood and passed out cold. Even after stabilizing him, she wasn't confident he'd ever be quite the same.

"You haven't seen Severus since you saved him, have you, Ms. Granger?" McGonagall inquired, recognizing the obvious bewilderment in the young woman's eyes.

"I haven't," Hermione confirmed, finally taking a seat before the trio of wizards. "It's great to see you, Professor Snape."

For a moment, the man appeared surprised by her genuineness, perhaps expecting her to be disappointed by his survival. However, since his true loyalties had been revealed in the Pensieve, Hermione had regained her respect for the man. In fact, since learning of everything he endured as a double agent for the Order of the Phoenix, her respect for him had actually increased.

Appearing quite lost for an appropriate response, Snape simply nodded and began scribbling on a piece of parchment. He seemed quite eager to get on with the interview.

"It's Mathilda Sweetleaf. A pleasure to meet you, dear."

Hermione turned to the small, unfamiliar witch seated in the chair to McGonagall's right. She was quite pretty and likely around the same age as Snape. "I'll be teaching Muggle Studies," she explained sweetly, tucking a loose blonde curl behind her ear.

"Hello," Hermione responded warmly, recognizing Mathilda to be the least intimidating of the trio of interviewers. The witch had likely undergone the same interview process and surely had a bit of empathy for her.

McGonagall pushed her emerald spectacles to the bridge of her nose, gazing down at a thorough list of questions and topics. "Shall we begin, then?" the witch asked, her usual composed demeanor finally emerging.

Hermione took a breath and nodded.

"Excellent," McGonagall chimed, searching her list for an acceptable place to begin. "Let's see how well this institution has truly prepared you, Ms. Granger."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Hello, friends! I'm Erin, a proud Slytherin with a Ravenclaw's love for writing. My Patronus is a bloodhound and my wand is willow wood with a unicorn hair core, 11 3/4" and quite flexible flexibility. How about you?
> 
> I would greatly appreciate a comment or kudos as they serve as encouragement for me to continue writing. Much love, friends!


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione kneeled atop her overflowing trunk as Ron struggled to clasp it shut, his face red with exhaustion.

"Can't you just place an extension charm on the ruddy thing?" Ron begged, feeling defeated by the task he'd been handed.

"That'll tempt me to overpack," Hermione explained, determination still marking her features.

"I think you might've 'overpacked' twenty books ago," Ron muttered exasperatedly, but Hermione was too focused to notice.

"Try again, I'll put more weight on it."

Ron sighed before returning to his battle with the overstuffed trunk. Sure enough, the added weight did the trick and he was able to force the thing shut. Hermione laughed as the man howled, punching at the air victoriously. Every once in a while, it actually felt as though nothing ever changed between them.

"I still can't believe you're heading back to Hogwarts... as a teacher!" Ron mused, plopping himself down on the couch with a fizzy drink. "I guess you were always great at teaching Harry and me all sorts of stuff."

Hermione smiled a little nervously, still in disbelief herself.

The interview had gone far better than she'd expected. McGonagall had been the one to ask all of the questions with Mathilda Sweetleaf chiming in every so often with, what Hermione considered to be, irrelevant but mood-lightening commentary. Snape, on the other hand, remained silent for the duration of the interview, eyes glued to the notes he was actively scribbling throughout. McGonagall often prompted the man to add to the conversation, but her efforts proved pointless as he appeared determined to remain uninvolved. Truthfully, Hermione was thankful for it.

Immediately following the interview, McGonagall gave Hermione her thanks and promised to inform her of the decision promptly. Sure enough, an owl arrived at the Burrow the following day carrying a letter from Hogwarts.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_We are pleased to offer you the position of Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please respond in a timely manner informing us of your decision to uptake the position._

_Further details will be provided upon your employment._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress_

Hermione fondly remembered the shock and relief she'd experienced at first opening the letter. After reading and rereading it several times for the fear of misinterpreting something, she finally believed and accepted that she'd landed the job. At the news, Mrs. Weasley had burst into hysterical tears, pulling Hermione into a wet, bone-crushing hug. "I knew it all along, but it's so wonderful to have it be official," she had wept into the younger witch's shoulder. Hermione hadn't had the same sureness, but she was touched by the confidence each of the Weasleys seemed to have.

"Weren't you supposed to be leaving ten minutes ago?" Ron asked, snapping Hermione out of her reminiscing.

"Oh, right. Well, I guess I'll get going," Hermione declared a little sadly, feeling quite bittersweet about leaving her home and family of three years. "I'll send an owl as soon as I arrive."

"Of course," Ron laughed, jumping up from the sofa to see his friend off. "Well, I guess I'll see you for Christmas then."

"Yep. It'll only be a few months."

A long moment of unsureness passed before the two of them shared their first real hug since the breakup. Hermione cherished the moment, a sense of assurance flooding her that she'd been starving for for several months. As Ron held her tightly, she realized that they truly would be able to move past everything they had gone through together. The old friendship they'd abandoned years ago was slowly but surely returning.

"Bye."

"Goodbye, Ron."

Hermione apparated from the Burrow, leaving the man behind with what she could've sworn was pride in his eyes.

Milliseconds later, she landed in the picturesque little village of Hogsmeade with only her trunk, wand, and the clothes on her back. That evening, she was to be moving into her private quarters and after would be attending an all-staff dinner. The prospect of eating amidst her former professors as an equal was entirely surreal and she couldn't help but feel quite nervous about fitting in. They were, after all, some of the greatest and most powerful witches and wizards in the world.

" _Wingardium_ _leviosa_ ," Hermione spoke firmly with a swish and flick of her wand. At her command, the bulging trunk floated into the air as though a phantom force had lifted it. Freed of the burden of carrying the weight at her side, the witch energetically began her ascent toward the majestic Hogwarts castle, her heart thumping excitedly in her chest.

Hermione searched deep within herself for any ounce of confidence she could muster. That night, unbelievably, she'd be beginning her life as the Hogwarts Professor of Transfiguration.

"Okay. You've got this," she assured herself as she entered the grand iron gates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! A kudos or comment would sure make my day. Much love, friends!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed the chapter. Much love, friends!

Hermione beamed as she entered the private quarters she'd be living in for the year ahead. The room resembled a small apartment and was already well-equipped with furnishings and decor sporting several shades of Gryffindor red and gold. A sturdy wooden bookshelf covered the entire back wall, its shelves mainly stuffed with works dedicated to her subject of specialization, Transfiguration. Hermione wondered if McGonagall had read all of the literature while living there.

Just moments behind her, a small female elf entered the quarters struggling to levitate the witch’s overflowing trunk. Much to Hermione's displeasure, Hoppy the elf had insisted upon delivering her belongings and had burst into tears when objected against. Not wanting to insult the elves again on her first day back to Hogwarts, the young woman had defeatedly agreed.

As Hoppy worked away at folding and hanging clothing, Hermione began sorting her collection of favorite books she'd struggled to select earlier that morning. Nearly an hour of focused organizing passed before it was time to head to the Great Hall for an all-staff dinner.

"Hoppy will continue working, Professor Granger," the spirited elf assured Hermione, oblivious to the frustration it caused her.

"Thank you, Hoppy," Hermione forced out through gritted teeth, leaving the quarters quickly to avoid the temptation of excusing the poor creature. Her encounter with Hoppy raised thoughts of reassembling S.P.E.W., the organization she'd founded her fourth year at Hogwarts in an attempt to win rights for house-elves. Perhaps leading the effort as a professor would strengthen her ability to recruit members.

Finding her way from her residence on the seventh floor to the Great Hall was as easy as when she'd been a student. Each twist and turn was ingrained like muscle-memory, so she was able to reach her destination without a bump in the road. As she entered the hall, her heart fluttered at the sight of the ever-magnificent magic which characterized the room's beauty. Just as she remembered, tall walls reached up to an enchanted ceiling designed to appear as the evening sky beyond, and a massive array of floating candles twinkled in the open airspace below it. Four long tables lined the main area, looking oddly vacant with the absence of students eating and socializing around them. At the front of the hall, several Hogwarts staff members had already congregated and were talking animatedly amongst each other at the High Table.

"Can' believe meh eyes," a familiar voice boomed from across the hall. "Hermione Granger, 's that you?"

"Hagrid," Hermione called happily, hastening her pace to the front to greet her towering half-giant friend. "It's been so long!"

The pair spent several minutes conversing about their lives since they'd last met over the Christmas holiday. Hagrid happily revealed that he'd been reinstated to his role of Care of Magical Creatures professor and that he'd spent the last several months collecting various creatures for the incoming school year. His most recent projects were capturing a Glumbumble-infested beehive and training a baby Erumpent he'd found abandoned while traveling in Africa. Hermione tried her best to appear interested as he detailed the latter creatures' tendency to blow itself up while mating. "'The horn 'as an explodin' fluid," he explained energetically, eyes wide with enthusiasm.

As the half-giant went on to tell of the great Sphinx he'd also encountered during his travels, Hermione's attention was drawn to the main doors of the Great Hall as they opened to reveal the only remaining staff member to arrive. Severus Snape entered the room with authority and poise, his characteristic black robes swirling around him as he traversed the hall. His presence commanded attention, yet Hermione seemed to be the only person in the room transfixed by his arrival.

"Good evening, everyone," McGonagall warmly proclaimed, snapping Hermione's attention to the witch at the headmistress's throne chair. "Welcome back to another school year at Hogwarts!"

Everyone celebrated with cheers, handshakes, and pats on the back. Hagrid was, of course, the loudest of all, his enthusiastic clapping shaking the entire table. Hermione smiled brightly as those seated around her shook her hand and welcomed her back. Professor Flitwick seemed particularly excited to have his star student on staff, noting that she'd be a wonderful Charms professor if the position weren't already occupied.

"Tonight, we celebrate the reopening of our beloved Hogwarts, and we welcome our newest staff additions to the family. First, allow me to introduce Ms. Mathilda Sweetleaf, Professor of Muggle Studies."

Cheerful applause erupted as Mathilda stood from her seat, the top of her head barely reaching Hagrid's elbow beside her. Hermione noticed that the little witch appeared to love the attention, milking the moment of recognition a bit longer than appropriate.

"Next, Mr. Thomas Fogs, Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Cheers and whistles filled the room once more as an older, stern-looking man stood and acknowledged the crowd with a single nod before returning to his seat. Hermione instantly recognized him as the auror Ron had worked under for his first year or so at the Ministry. The Daily Prophet had said that Fogs stepped down from the position after sustaining a nasty curse to the head, but didn't provide any details beyond that.

"And last but not least, Ms. Hermione Granger, Professor of Transfiguration."

Hermione couldn't help but notice the added enthusiasm to the applause at her name. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks as her former-professors cheered her on, proud to have been part of her preparation for teaching at Hogwarts.

The only wizard who appeared uninterested was Snape, eyes looking anywhere but at her, as he offered a few lackluster claps. Hermione continued smiling and giving thanks as she took her seat, but she couldn't help but be bothered at the man's refusal to acknowledge her. She wondered if he still loathed her for being, as he had put it, an insufferable know-it-all, or if simply being friends with Harry or being a Gryffindor was the root of his problem. Either way, the grudge he seemed to still have against her was extremely frustrating.

"Now, let us eat," McGonagall cried, cueing the appearance of a delicious buffet of dishes at the table before them. Hermione hadn't realized how hungry she was until she was wafted with the mouth-watering smells of the freshly cooked food. As soon as Hagrid and Professor Vector to her right started filling their plates, she permitted herself to dive in for a helping of shepherd's pie.

The evening flew by as Hermione found herself invited into one conversation after another. She found that she was barely able to get a bite in with the number of questions her former professors were hitting her with, especially once they were a few pints in. Light conversations about life after the war slowly morphed into more personal topics such as leaving her job at the Ministry and living without her memory-charmed parents. Professor Sprout even inquired about her relationship with Ron, much to her immense embarrassment.

"Oh, well, we aren't exactly together anymore," Hermione had sputtered, cheeks burning at the mention of her ex-boyfriend.

The listening professors gasped at the revelation, likely having expected the two to be in the talks of marriage by then. Hermione couldn't help but flash a glance at Snape who, to her surprise, seemed to be listening in on the awkward conversation. Hoping he hadn't noticed her looking, she continued on in hopes of concluding the short-lived discussion.

"It's actually for the better, really. Ron and I have a great friendship," she explained a little too enthusiastically. Fortunately, her coworkers didn't pry any further.

It was nearing eleven o'clock when one-by-one, witches and wizards started departing from the gathering for the night. Hermione knew that she had a full day of organizing her classroom and finalizing Transfiguration curriculum ahead of her, so she took a final swig of her butterbeer and stood to exit the Great Hall. Making her way down from the staff table, she noticed that Snape had coincidently begun to leave himself. As she opened her mouth to say something, she was interrupted by an icy "Goodnight, Ms. Granger." Before she could respond, the man had hastened his pace and exited the doors ahead of them.

"Fine then," Hermione huffed, following behind in confused frustration. "So it's going to be like this again."


	6. Chapter 6

Severus burst through the doors of the Great Hall with a rush of adrenaline, urgent to get ahead of the bewildered witch he'd left in his wake. He seethed with frustration, recognizing the coldness he'd spoken to her with as his usual defense mechanism. He was well aware of his tendency to use bitterness as a shield, yet he continued to play the part of the scary, malicious professor whenever he felt at risk of displaying emotion.

The problem Severus faced was that Hermione Granger had stirred many emotions within him that threatened to boil over whenever he faced her.

Returning to his quarters in the dungeons, Severus began changing into his nightclothes in deep thought. Did he really expect to avoid the woman for the entire school year? If he actually were to discuss the incident, what would he even say? Would he have to abandon his pride and thank her?

Severus slammed his palm into the cold wall on his quarters, immediate pain rushing up his arm at the impact. Why'd it have to be the Granger girl who saved him?

With an aggravated huff, he returned to his desk and began organizing Potions curriculum for the second night in a row, accepting that he wouldn't get an ounce of sleep even if he tried. Students would be arriving shortly, so he needed to be finishing his final preparations in the remaining hours of the Summer holiday. He couldn't help but wonder whether Hermione was ready for the chaotic onslaught of children ahead of her.

Suddenly, a firm knock at the door brought Severvus to attention. He wasn't expecting visitors. Rising from the neatly organized array of books and papers at his desk, he cautiously approached the door. "Minerva," he spoke exasperatedly.

"Good evening, Severus. May I?" the woman asked, expecting an invitation inside. Severus stepped aside, motioning for the headmistress to help herself to a seat.

"I trust you were still awake," Minerva commented, well aware of the man's poor habit of neglecting sleep.

Severus took a seat in the plush armchair across from his colleague. "Yes," he confirmed, knowing Minerva wasn't one to lecture him for the fact.

"As of recently, I haven't slept well myself," Minerva commented, her eyes darkening with sudden graveness. "Severus, I fear that peace in our world is at stake once more."

Severus knew that the headmistress hadn't visited for a light evening chat. She had come bearing news.

"The Ministry has reported a significant increase in neo-Death Eater activity. Just this evening, a Muggle-born shop owner was found dead with both of his employees left in critical condition. All of them had the Dark Mark carved into their skin."

Severus nodded, maintaining his stoic composure. Over the last several months, reports of similar crimes committed in the name of Lord Voldemort had been surfacing. Each incident involved the murder of one or more Muggle-born wizards, with anyone else "in the way" being brutally injured. The victims were all found with poor renditions of Voldemort's skull and snake insignia carved into their skin somewhere on their bodies.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt said that this attack brings the victim count to thirty-six, with nine dead."

Severus couldn't prevent his eyes from widening at the worsening reports. "What does this mean for the students?" He asked concernedly, realizing that Hogwarts would be full of children in the coming days.

Minerva stood from her seat, strong determination in her stance. "It means that whatever becomes of this movement, we protect the children at all costs. They will return to Hogwarts, attend classes per usual, and in case of emergency, benefit the protection of our excellent staff."

"Of course," Severus agreed, rising to see his visitor to the door. "And what of the students who've been inspired by these pro-pureblood crimes?"

Minerva frowned, likely having already considered the potential of a neo-Death Eater uprising at Hogwarts. "I pray our students wouldn't adopt such ideals. All we can do is deal with the problem if or when it surfaces."

Severus didn't have the same faith, for historically pureblood supremacism had been an issue at the school. If he were to have it his way, a zero-tolerance policy would be established immediately upon the arrival of students. Any sign of neo-Death Eater activity needed to be crushed before getting the chance to gain momentum. Regardless, he would respect the headmistress's plan of action.

"I will keep you informed," Minerva assured her trusted colleague, her expression grim as she exited the office. "And Severus?"

"Yes?" he asked, curious to what else the witch might have to say that night.

"Try a little harder to be kind to Ms. Granger. She did save your life, after all."

Severus opened his mouth to retort but immediately shut it, noticing the mischievous twinkle to the witch's gaze. She was baiting him.

"Good night, Minerva," Severus said with finality, reaching for the office door to emphasize his dismissal.

Minerva chuckled at the man's predictable callousness. She knew that deep down, he meant well. "Goodnight, Severus," she called behind her as she headed to exit the dungeons.

Severus let out a frustrated groan as he returned to the piles of remaining work at his desk. When he'd originally heard rumors of the second generation of Voldemort followers, he'd ignorantly dismissed the possibility of anything significant coming of it. To his dismay, the movement seemed to be amassing numbers that would continue to grow with the increase of media coverage. The Ministry, despite having undergone considerable reformation, had inarguably failed in suppressing the movement early on. They never could seem to get anything quite right.

Recognizing that there was nothing he could do to deal with the growing issue at present, Severus took to distracting himself by documenting an alphabetized list of the current potions in his storeroom. Hours later, the golden glow of the sunrise pouring through his window informed him that the task had succeeded in occupying him through the night.

Severus stood from his desk to ready himself for the day to come. Tomorrow, nearly three hundred young witches and wizards would be flooding the grounds of Hogwarts for the first time in three years. He had a lot of work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope all of you have been enjoying the story so far, as I've certainly loved writing it!   
> A comment of kudos would be deeply appreciated. Much love, friends!


	7. Chapter 7

A full moon shone brightly in the night sky as a parade of Thestral-drawn carriages arrived at the gates of Hogwarts. Hermione watched from her window as clusters of witches and wizards flooded the castle, animatedly socializing with friends both old and new. Closely behind, Hagrid appeared with an assembly of nervous-looking first years, having separately traversed the glassy waters of the Black Lake as per tradition.

With the arrival of students as her cue, Hermione threw on her traditional black pointed hat and headed for the Great Hall. Beyond the delicious feast with which each school year began, the first night back at Hogwarts always consisted of the much-anticipated Sorting ceremony. On account of the three-year closure following the war, first years were not the only students in need of a house assignment. Second through fourth-year students, having attended alternative wizarding schools during the shutdown, were also to wear the hat that evening.

Arriving just before the onslaught of rambunctious teenagers, Hermione made her way to the staff table and took a seat beside an ecstatic Professor Sprout. The two mused over the challenge of learning so many new names, the elder witch joking that she struggled to remember her own those days.

As young witches and wizards filled the long tables of the Great Hall. Hermione noted that with the majority of students yet to be sorted, the traditional designation of each table to a specific house had been abandoned. Even the older students who'd attended Hogwarts in years past happily intermingled with friends belonging to different houses, much to the witch's pleasure. She'd always viewed the system of labeling and dividing students as somewhat questionable, but nevertheless had deeply appreciated the camaraderie it fostered within each house. The friendships she'd made in Gryffindor were lifelong.

Once the room had completely filled, Professor Flitwick walked to the front of the hall struggling to carry a four-legged stool and the extremely tattered-looking Sorting Hat. Upon his return to the High Table, the hat started belting his annual song with dramatic enthusiasm. The students and staff alike watched with delight as he sang of the four Hogwarts houses and their associated traits.

Immediately following the song, the sorting of one hundred and fifty-three witches and wizards began. In alphabetical order, the Sorting hat summoned each student to its stool, taking anywhere from milliseconds to several minutes to decide to which house they belonged. Cheers erupted throughout the hall as the hat cried "Gryffindor," "Ravenclaw," "Hufflepuff," or "Slytherin" for each child. Hours later, when the ceremony finally came to a close, McGonagall rose from her seat at the throne chair.

"Welcome, welcome young witches and wizards, to the long-awaited reopening of Hogwarts School," the collected voice of the headmistresses flooded the room. Similarly to Albus Dumbledore, her words commanded the attention of every presence within the Great Hall. She was truly an excellent and worthy successor.

"I am confident that you are all quite hungry by now, so please, let us begin our banquet!"

As Hermione began serving herself a hearty helping of roast chicken and potatoes, she was surprised to notice Snape entering the Great Hall for the first time that evening. It was only then that she realized he'd missed the entire Sorting ceremony.

She watched with stolen glances as the man attempted to approach the High Table unnoticed. However, as soon as he realized that the only remaining vacant seat was the one to her left, he froze in his tracks with an expression of conflict. Hermione presumed that he'd simply turn around and leave the way he entered, but she was surprised when he continued forward and filled the empty chair.

The tension could be cut with a knife as Snape began serving himself in silence. Hermione ate quietly to his side, anxiously racking her brain for something to say. It felt like years before the man had filled his plate and started eating, eyes fixed forward as though she weren't even there.

Quickly, Hermione's anxiousness turned to irritation. Why did the man continue to despise her after so many years? She couldn't recall doing anything deserving of such coldness, yet he continued to treat her like something on the bottom of his shoe. She wouldn't tolerate it any longer.

"Listen–"

"Good evening, Ms. Granger. Settling in well?"

Hermione was startled by Snape's sudden interjection. Though his gaze remained forward, he spoke in a calm, collected voice quite unlike the one she'd almost lashed at him with. His relaxed tone, however, didn't succeed in extinguishing her frustration.

"Professor Granger," she corrected, eyes widening as soon as the words left her mouth. An unreadable emotion flashed across Snape's features, but as quickly as she noticed it he'd repressed it.

"Of course," he agreed nonchalantly, pouring a glass of what Hermione identified to be elf-made wine. "Well, Professor, I trust that you've made yourself quite at home."

Hermione felt the air return to her lungs as the man appeared unbothered by the correction. Evidently, she needed to work on her temper.

"I have," she confirmed enthusiastically, attempting to compensate for her previous rudeness. "Though I will admit, it's odd to have my own quarters."

"You'll appreciate the hideaway," Snape promised, earning an amused chuckle from the woman beside him. She has a feeling he required far more time in solitude then she ever would.

"I'm certainly gaining a new perspective" Hermione commented thoughtfully, already having experienced several differences between life as a student and as a professor at Hogwarts.

Before Snape could respond, McGonagall was standing to make the usual beginning-of-the-year announcements. Having expected the interruption to serve as an out from a dreadfully uncomfortable conversation, Hermione was surprised to find herself quite at ease.

"New students, please take note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils," McGonagall declared sternly. She was far more serious than Dumbledore ever pretended to be. "Furthermore, magic is not to be used between classes in the corridors."

McGonagall went on to discuss a few more matters before concluding the opening feast with a sing-through of the school song. "Everyone pick your favorite tune," she instructed with a forced smile, personally unenthused by the strange tradition.

Hermione bellowed merrily, flooded by her enthusiasm for the year ahead. As long as Snape continued to be at least tolerant of her, she could only foresee a wonderful first year of teaching at Hogwarts. She was confident that the future was bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I would absolutely adore a kudos or comment letting me know your thoughts! Much love, friends.


	8. Chapter 8

Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived just minutes before the Opening Feast, the graveness of his expression promising unfortunate news. Minerva's oversight of the meal was inarguably necessary, so instead, Severus walked with the Minister to an empty classroom, preparing himself for another report of violence. Sure enough, two more attacks against Muggle-borns had occurred within the day.

"They're gaining momentum, Severus. We've lost thirteen innocent wizards, and the thirty-two others involved barely escaped with their lives," Kingsley reported, eyes wide with unbridled fear. "The attacks are becoming larger and more frequent. They're becoming confident."

Severus nodded, expression unreadable. "The inevitable is finally occurring. It was only a matter of time before Lord Voldemort's ideologies reemerged."

"Unfortunately, I agree. In the last few years, the Ministry has received immense backlash from pure-blood supremacists for its progressive reforms. These attacks were not unexpected but sadly, the severity and suddenness of their occurrence were."

Severus gazed through the window at the incoming mass of students. "These attacks will be receiving media coverage, I presume?"

"Yes," Kingsley confirmed wearily. "We can no longer continue to cover-up them up. Our world must know of the dangers it's facing."

* * *

The following morning, Severus quietly traversed the Hogwarts grounds as the sun peeked over the Forbidden Forest, its rays casting a golden veil over the dense greenery. The chaotic song of hundreds of chirping birds filled the otherwise silent air, and a thin layer of dew sparkled atop the grassy, sloping hills. The tranquil atmosphere brought much-needed solace to the man following his troubling discussion with the Minister of Magic the previous evening.

In a few hours, students were to be beginning their classes, undoubtedly with highly preoccupied minds. The front page of the incoming _The Daily Prophet_ was to be dedicated to a full-coverage of the neo-Death Eater uprising, meaning that students would soon be hearing of the attacks for the first time. Severus sighed, knowing all too well that he could expect to accomplish nothing in his classes that day.

Having returned to the castle from his spontaneous stroll, Severus climbed the wide marble staircase toward double doors of the Great Hall. With plans of enjoying a quiet breakfast before the arrival of students, he was surprised to see the headmistress and a distressed-looking Hermione Granger already immersed in deep conversation at the High Table. He assumed that Minerva had taken it upon herself to personally deliver the news of the attacks to the younger witch, allowing her time to process the information before the imminent chaos. Not wanting to involve himself, Severus resorted to grabbing a coffee and pastry to-go, exiting the hall as quickly as he'd arrived.

As he walked the cold, stony corridors of the dungeons, Severus recalled the brief exchange he'd shared with his former student the previous evening. On behalf of his tardy arrival, he'd been forced to sit next to her in the only open chair for the remainder of the meal, much to his initial discomfort. Intending to endure the meal in silence, he found that his plan required adjustment when the seething witch nearly ripped his head off for ignoring her.

"Typical Gryffindor in need of attention," he'd thought exasperatedly. He was, however, surprised to find that she was quite tolerable to chat with. Perhaps the best method for dealing with the woman, rather than completely disregarding her, was to pretend as though nothing ever happened between them. All he needed to do was carry on living as though she hadn't actually saved him that night. Hermione Granger was simply a former student, his colleague, and nothing more.

With a feeling of satisfaction, Severus entered the large dungeon designated to his Potions classes, taking a seat at his desk to organize and prepare several stacks of course syllabi. While he did not look forward to a day of redirecting his students' attention from the incoming news, the relief of having a plan for dealing with the bothersome witch was enough to keep him at ease for a bit.

* * *

Hermione watched from her desk as a crowd of flustered first years entered her classroom. Unsurprisingly, various discussions of neo-Death Eaters and attacks against Muggle-borns filled the air with a nervous sort of energy. It would almost certainly be a battle to keep them focused on anything Transfiguration-related: a battle she wasn't willing to fight.

"No need to take any books out," Hermione stated as a few front-row students started flipping through their copies of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_. "I believe a conversation is in order."

Hermione stood before the class of young Gryffindor students, gaze full of seriousness. "I'm sure you have all read _The Daily Prophet_. Yes, there have been several attacks against Muggle-born witches and wizards in recent months. It is true that the ideologies of Lord Voldemort are resurfacing in the form of violence, and it is almost certain that these attacks will only increase."

Every child watched her with wide eyes, likely shocked by her frank acknowledgment of the news, or perhaps her unabashed use of the dark wizard's name.

"As students at Hogwarts, you are fortunate to have the protection of some of the greatest witches and wizards alive," Hermione continued, her gaze lightening with the words of assurance. "Wizards like Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout… and Severus Snape."

Suddenly, the hand of a small boy looking close to puking shot into the air. "Professor, why hasn't the Ministry sent the attackers to Azkaban? After all this time, shouldn't they have caught them?"

"Unfortunately, this isn't a finite group of wizards we can punish and do away with," Hermione explained, having expressed the same thought to McGonagall that morning. "While the Aurors have succeeded in capturing several attackers, new perpetrators continue to emerge by the day. There is no way of knowing how quickly or rapidly the neo-Death Eaters are growing in numbers."

Several students turned to each other, frightened whispers about the professor's grave response filling the air. Hermione knew she needed to harness the panic, and quickly.

"While I cannot promise that things will not grow worse in the coming days, I can promise that each of your safety has been and will continue to be made a priority here," the witch expressed confidently. "I understand that this is scary, but as Gryffindors, it is our duty to inspire courage and bravery at this school."

Hermione watched as the mention of Godric Gryffindor's most valued characteristics shifted the attitude of almost every student present. Some of the most fear-stricken children now embodied the determined strength of the founding father or at least made a valiant effort to do so. No one wanted to risk being called a cowardly Gryffindor.

Hermione grinned knowingly, having suspected the words to be potent.

"Brilliant. Now that that discussion is out of the way, allow me to introduce myself," she declared warmly, surprised that they might be able to get some work done after all. "I am Professor Granger, and for the following year, I will be teaching you the magical art of Transfiguration."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, a comment or kudos would be deeply appreciated. Much love, friends!


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione dreamily watched the dancing flames of the fireplace, mind journeying through the events of the previous week.

Monday had been the most challenging day, to say the least. Unsurprisingly, news of the neo-Death Eater attacks had proven remarkably unsettling to the student body. Chaos erupted as soon as the _Daily Prophet_ made its arrival, and as expected, the news had reached the whole school by word-of-mouth in a matter of minutes. She recalled the defeated attitudes of almost every professor at dinner that evening, beaten-down by a day of taming flustered school children. Professor Flitwick had even burst into tears of frustration.

Slowly but surely, order at Hogwarts returned as students became distracted by the business of schoolwork, club meetings, and Quidditch tryouts. By Friday, the normalcy Hermione remembered from her more mundane times at Hogwarts had returned. Once again, students were complaining about the toughness of classes, competitively comparing house points, or sharing their latest purchases from _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_.

Realizing that it was nearing one o'clock, Hermione left her perch at the couch to begin readying herself for a trip to Hogsmeade. The previous evening, she'd compiled a list of items she'd be needing for her various Transfiguration classes throughout the year. While she'd succeeded in developing an extensive curriculum map for each of her courses, she'd neglected to acquire many of the materials required for individual lessons. She could only hope that the small wizarding village offered everything she was looking for.

Draping her signature beaded handbag over her shoulder, the young witch exited her quarters to begin her journey to Hogsmeade. As she'd predicted, the rainy weather had kept the majority of students nestled within their dorms, leaving the Hogwarts grounds remarkably desolate for a Saturday afternoon. Regardless of the weather, Hermione looked forward to a few hours of absentminded shopping away from the pile of essays she'd yet to grade.

* * *

Severus searched the shelves of Dogweed and Deathcap, determined to locate the few remaining ingredients he needed for a batch of Pepperup Potion. The shop was either short of or completely out of almost everything, likely having been picked clean by students fulfilling their school shopping lists. The frustrated wizard sighed, well-aware that he was the main professor to be blamed for the shortage.

Departing the shop in defeat, Severus started on his way to J. Pippins Potions to purchase a mediocre Pepperup Potion for Madame Pomfrey, not wanting to return to the castle empty-handed. As he traversed the wet cobblestone streets of the village, a sudden flash in the corner of his eye froze him in his tracks. Reflexively reaching for his wand, the wizard turned his attention to Tomes and Scrolls, a little bookshop that, at that moment, appeared quite normal. Not wanting to take any chances, Severus cautiously approached, wand at the ready. Sure enough, another flash in its front window confirmed that spells were being cast within.

Without hesitation, Severus burst through the front door of the shop, earning the startled attention of every person within. The man gazed around the room of trembling witches and wizards, all watching him with wide, pleading eyes.

"We have a visitor! How charming!"

Severus whipped his wand around to face the wizard who'd spoken. The large man walked to the center of the room, a mischievous smile playing at his lips.

"Come to save the day, mate? It's a bit late for that, I'm afraid," the man declared with mock-sadness. Just then, Severus spotted the crumbled body of who he quickly identified to be the shop owner, along with two other unconscious bodies he didn't recognize. Instantly, he was confident that he'd walked into a neo-Death Eater attack.

" _Stupefy_ ," Severus spat, sending a brilliant flash of red light from the tip of his wand. The neo-Death Eater, not bothering to reach for his wand, stood in his place as an ally suddenly emerged at his side with a shield charm. Severus clenched his jaw, forcing his expression to appear unbothered at the deflection.

"Silly man," the perpetrator laughed, amused by his opponent's fearless attempt to stun him. "I'll admit, I appreciate the boldness. But do you really think you can beat _all of us_?"

Suddenly, four more wizards stepped forward, increasing the number of opponents to six. Severus eyed the attackers, all dressed in the black hooded robes which once distinguished Lord Voldemort's most loyal followers. However, rather than shielding their identities, each neo-Death Eater was maskless, the Dark Mark carved into the skin of their foreheads. These wizards had no shame in showcasing their loyalties.

"Go ahead and put the wand away, Professor," the leader insisted, informing Severus that he was aware of who he was. "In fact, I'll give you a freebie if you just go ahead and leave right now."

Severus narrowed his eyes darkly, readying himself for a duel he very likely could lose. He had no means of measuring the power or skill of his opponents and therefore could be entering a fight he had no chance of winning. Regardless, it was not in his character to leave a bunch of helpless people for the slaughter.

Suddenly, a waving hand from the back of the room caught Severus's attention. Hermione Granger, hidden behind a cluster of huddled witches and wizards, was staring at him with an expression of determination. If eyes could speak, hers were screaming at him to take on the attackers.

" _Stupefy._ "

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

As Severus shot another stunning spell in the direction of the leader, Hermione burst forth from her hiding place and cast a powerful disarming spell at the ally who'd aided him. Once again, the leader arrogantly refused to lift a finger, but this time much to his immediate regret. Severus's spell succeeded in blasting him across the room, leaving him sprawled across the floor completely unconscious. All eyes flew to the neo-Death Eater who'd been expected to defend the man, surprised to discover that he'd been disarmed by the witch who'd suddenly appeared at the professor's side.

"End them!" the disarmed neo-Death Eater cried, commanding the four hooded wizards to attack.

"Watch my back," Severus ordered his colleague calmly. Hermione gave an assuring nod, taking her stance behind the powerful wizard.

"You're going to regret involving yourself, Professor," a neo-Death Eater shouted before firing a curse toward the pair of challengers.

"Doubtful," Severus responded coolly, easily deflecting the curse with a shield charm. In fact, regret was quite the opposite of what he would experience following the duel. He would incapacitate these pathetic followers of Voldemort and revel in doing so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! It makes me so happy to know that people are enjoying this story.
> 
> I'd love to know what you thought of this chapter! Please leave me a comment with your honest thoughts, or just a kudos to let me know you liked it. Much love, friends!


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione watched in amazement as the wizard beside her effortlessly dominated the band of neo-Death Eaters. Without a moment to think, Snape moved gracefully throughout the room casting and deflecting spells with remarkable poise. The younger witch broke a sweat in an effort to keep up, maintaining an eye on the wizard's blind spot as he dueled with each enemy. Astoundingly, she found her aid to be almost unnecessary, for throughout the battle she only deflected two or three spells. Severus Snape was truly a force to be reckoned with.

" _Impedimenta_ ," Snape uttered calmly, slowing the oncoming opponent with a turquoise beam of light. Without a second's hesitation, he followed the jinx with a condemning stunning spell, causing the neo-Death Eater to collapse to the ground with a loud thud.

 _"Avada Kedavra_ ," the only remaining enemy cried, hurling a green bolt in Snape's direction. The elder professor dodged the curse with ease, answering the attacker with a perfectly-aimed disarming spell. The final neo-Death Eater watched in horror as his wand flew from his hand to the opposite end of the shop.

"Surrender," Snape hissed, his wand pointed at the only opponent to remain conscious and standing. The neo-Death Eater looked around the room frantically, only then realizing that each of his allies had fallen at the hand of the professor. Recognizing the hopelessness of the situation, he dropped to his knees, hands in the air as an admission of defeat.

Hermione sighed in relief, grateful that the fight was over and that they had achieved an overwhelming victory. She watched as Snape walked about the room casting Incarcerous spells on each of the offenders, thoroughly binding them in magically conjured ropes.

"Professor Granger, if you wouldn't mind informing the Ministry," Snape asked wearily, his exhaustion from the duel evident in his voice. Hermione nodded obediently, energetically casting a Patronus charm to send word of the indicicent to the Ministry of Magic.

"There has been a neo-Death Eater attack at Tomes and Scrolls in Hogsmeade Village. Send Aurors. Three people have been killed," Hermione spoke clearly to the silvery-white otter, sending it on its way to the Ministry headquarters in London. As soon as the furry apparition scurried through the door, she moved her attention to the lifeless forms of the shopkeeper and customers who'd fallen victim to the attackers. Several witches and wizards surrounded them, among them an older witch sobbing over the body of her prospective husband.

Within ten minutes, a band of Aurors entered the bookshop, scanning the room for enemies with wands at the ready.

"They've been handled," Snape assured the officials, gesturing to the tightly bound neo-Death Eaters scattered about the room. "I trust you'll take over from here."

"Of course," the lead Auror confirmed, signaling his associates to retrieve the immobilized attackers. "Thank you, Severus."

Snape nodded, his expression unreadable as he swiftly turned to exit the building. Hermione followed quickly behind, wanting to express her gratitude to the man who'd almost single-handedly defeated the six neo-Death Eaters.

"Professor Snape," Hermione called, entering a light jog to catch up with the man. Snape continued forward at the same pace, appearing to not have heard her. She shouted his name once more. "Professor Snape!"

Snape aggressively spun around to face his pursuer. " _What?_ " he spat viciously, eyes ablaze with hostility. " _What do you want?_ "

Hermione froze, astonished by the sudden outburst of fury from her colleague. She hadn't expected him to be so upset.

"I wanted to thank you," Hermione explained, hurt wavering in her voice. "For saving everyone."

Snape's jaw clenched as the young witch expressed her gratitude. She remained silent as he stared at her, his dark gaze searching for an ulterior motive behind the kindness. Suddenly, she recognized that the man felt undeserving of thanks.

"More people would've been killed if you hadn't come," Hermione continued encouragingly, fighting her instinct to run away from the intimidating man. "The neo-Death Eaters were just getting started. I didn't stand a chance against them alone."

The anger in Snape's face dissipated, only to be replaced by an expression of controlled indifference. In the blink of an eye, the wizard had completely masked his emotions, leaving no trace of frustration behind. He was a true master of concealment, but Hermione refused to fall for the facade.

"This is quite unnecessary–"

"If they had seen me before you got there, I would be dead," the witch deadpanned. Tears brimmed the edges of her gaze as she struggled to convince the man of his good deed. "I'm Harry Potter's Muggle-born best friend. There is no hiding that."

Hermione waited for his response, hoping that the coldness in his eyes would lighten as he accepted her words as truth. Snape, however, remained unmoved. Once his walls were put up, he was unreachable.

Without a word of notice, Snape turned away from the woman, leaving her behind to continue his ascent to the castle alone. Hermione watched him with disappointment, lost for any words powerful enough to stop him. The man was tremendously stubborn and impossible to convince of anything, including his own benevolence. Part of Hermione had expected the duel to bring them closer, but now it appeared that they were on poorer terms than ever before. She sighed, irritated by the man's inability to simply tolerate her.

With a deep, calming breath, Hermione began her return to Hogwarts without a single item she'd originally gone shopping for. She hadn't the energy or motivation to continue the errands and desired nothing more than to cuddle up by the fireplace in her quarters. The trip to Hogsmeade had been a bust, but maybe she would at least get to that stack of ungraded essays.

* * *

Severus slammed the door of his office, the frustration he'd bottled up finally boiling over. He paced the small room agitatedly, taking deep, cooling breaths as his mind played through the events that had just transpired. That afternoon, when he'd been cornered by six neo-Death Eaters, he'd fully embraced the likelihood of dying at their hands. But then, as though by a miracle, he'd been given the upper hand he needed when the aid of a well-timed disarming spell freed him from checkmate.

Severus cursed at the air as he recalled the saving act of the courageous witch. Once again, Hermione Granger had swooped in to save him, well aware that if seen, her blood status alone would be reason enough for the attackers to kill her. Nonetheless, she'd taken the risk, sacrificing her concealment to provide him a chance at taking on the enemy. While he was thankful to be alive, knowing that he now owed his life to the woman two times over was enough to drive him mad.

Physically and emotionally drained, Severus fell into an armchair, staring tiredly at the ceiling in search of an answer. He hadn't a clue of how he would deal with Hermione in the coming days. Surely she would want to talk about the attack again, perhaps after having realized that he was the one who owed her thanks. The man winced at the prospect of such a conversation, nonetheless understanding that she truly was deserving of his gratitude.

Severus sighed defeatedly. The simple answer to the problem was becoming painstakingly clear. Eventually, he would have to rip the plaster and thank the witch who saved him. Twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 10 CHAPTERS, BABY!  
> Much love, friends!


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione wandered the narrow aisles of the library's Restricted Sections, rapidly reading the spines of each book in search of anything Transfiguration-related. She'd been ecstatic about the prospect of receiving unlimited access to the school's rarest, most valuable collection of literature, but nonetheless had found herself too distracted by the start-of-year chaos to utilize it.

Finally, a miraculously open Wednesday evening had emerged, presenting her with the opportunity to explore the mysterious section. She planned to spend hours immersed in exploring the books, selecting a few particularly interesting ones to borrow for the week. Quickly, however, the short stack of books she planned to check-out had grown into a small library in itself. Across the room, an irritated Madam Pince scoffed with exasperation at each additional selection Hermione set aside.

A small grin played at Hermione's lips as she spotted the copy of Moste Potente Potions she'd borrowed her second year at Hogwarts. She recalled the overwhelming guilt she'd experienced at tricking Lockhart into signing a permission slip for the book, but also the immense satisfaction she'd felt at her own cunning. While her character was most commonly associated with the traits of Gryffindor or even Ravenclaw, she certainly had a Slytherin side that made occasional appearances, especially when it came to achieving her ends.

Nearing midnight, Hermione left the library, overjoyed by the mound of books overflowing from her arms. She looked forward to the tranquility of quietly reading each selection by the fire, jotting down important concepts and ideas for her lessons. Nothing quite compared to the pleasure of filling her mind with new little pieces of knowledge.

As she quietly traversed the first-floor corridors toward the staircases, Hermione spotted a small witch walking briskly ahead of her. She quickly recognized the woman to be Professor Sweetleaf, her bouncing blonde curls giving her away.

"Mathilda," Hermione called to the Muggle Studies professor, accidentally startling the unsuspecting witch. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you."

"Good evening, Hermione. I assumed everyone would be asleep by now…"

For a moment, Mathilda looked as if she'd been caught in the act of something. An emotion comparable to irritation had flashed in her eyes, only to be masked by her typical cheerful expression. Hermione, curiosity getting the best of her, decided to engage in some casual prying.

"I got a bit caught up in the library. Why are you up and about so late?" Hermione asked nonchalantly, catching up to her colleague at the moving staircases. Mathilda, unprepared for the sudden interrogation, seemed to sputter out the first excuse to pop into her head.

"Leg cramps," she explained with an awkward chuckle, voice noticeably higher in pitch. "They'll keep me up all night if I don't walk them out."

Hermione nodded, the lame excuse further convincing her of the woman's suspiciousness.

"Well, I best be off to bed," Mathilda declared, making a flustered break for the stairs. "Goodnight, then!"

Hermione matched her pace, joining her in her ascent to the next floor. "I'm actually headed in the same direction. Mind if I join?"

Mathilda, for a brief moment, looked sickened by the thought of the company. However, as quickly as Hermione noticed the slip of character, the professor was her happy, bubbly self once more.

"Oh no, silly me! I've forgotten something in my classroom!" Mathilda cried with a forced laugh, swiftly reversing her direction on the staircase. "Go on ahead! Goodnight, Hermione!"

Before Hermione could protest, the little witch had dashed away, leaving her to contemplate the oddness of the interaction. She couldn't ignore Mathilda's distraughtness upon being discovered, as well as the momentary lapses of her usual personality. Although she didn't know the new professor particularly well, the brief exchange was suspicious enough to raise some red flags.

Arms shaking from the heaviness of her library books, Hermione headed to her quarters to retire for the night. She couldn't think of anything immediate to be done about the discomforting exchange, so she opted to get some much-needed sleep before her classes the following morning. Nevertheless, she certainly wouldn't hesitate to keep an eye on Mathila Sweetleaf in the coming days.

* * *

The following evening, Severus traced his slender fingers over the bite-shaped scar on his neck as he watched Hermione enter the Great Hall for dinner. She looked exhausted, the dark shadows beneath her eyes revealing that she likely hadn't slept. Even her hair, which she'd attempted to tame each day since working at Hogwarts, had returned to its natural bushiness. Any rejuvenation she'd achieved over the Summer holiday had been lost to the stress of the school year.

As the young witch wearily approached the High Table, Severus prepared himself for a conversation he wished nothing more than to avoid. After a week of inner-conflict and indecision, he'd finally decided to confront Hermione about the incident at Tomes and Scrolls, as well as at the Shrieking Shack three years prior. He couldn't continue to live with the onslaught of emotions the woman stirred within him at every glance.

Taking a seat at the opposite end of the table from him, Hermione silently poured herself a bowl of soup, staring blankly ahead as she took small sips. Severus knew that they weren't on the best of terms, especially after the outburst he'd let slip following their duel at the bookshop. If he wanted the discussion to occur that evening, he'd have to swallow his pride and go over to her.

Leaving his untouched plate of food behind, Severus moved from his seat to fill one of the open spots next to Hermione. Absolute dread filled him as the young witch noticed him approaching, the emotion of her gaze unreadable.

"Professor," Severus began casually, careful to remain unmoved by her stare. "Good evening."

Hermione appeared unsure of how to respond, instead choosing to take a hardy swig of butterbeer. Severus turned around to check that the other professors weren't listening. Sure enough, each of them was animatedly engaged in conversation, completely oblivious to his abrupt switch of seats. He needed to act quickly.

"I trust that the week has treated you well?" Severus asked calmly, pouring himself a glass of his favorite elf-made wine. Hermione continued eating, allowing her silence to speak for itself. She was making her frustration quite conspicuous.

Severus took a quiet breath, preparing himself to force out a few words of thanksgiving. "Professor Granger, I–"

"This is quite unnecessary," the witch deadpanned, not bothering to offer a moment of eye contact. She stood from her seat, hastily collecting her things, and retreated from the staff table. Severus watched her in astonishment, shocked by her slicing use of his own words.

Defeatedly, the wizard took a long sip of wine before standing to leave the hall without a bite to eat. Of all of the outcomes he'd imagined, he hadn't foreseen the woman blatantly refusing to engage with him. While he understood that he'd been harsh to her, the Hermione he'd grown to know had always sucked up to him regardless of the way he'd treated her. Apparently she'd grown a backbone over the years.

Pushing through the grand wooden doors of the Great Hall, Severus made for the dungeons, seething with irritation.

"I should've known," he huffed as he traversed the cold, stone corridors toward his office. "Gryffindors must make everything difficult."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I've really appreciated all of your kind words and dedication to this story. Much love, friends.


	12. Chapter 12

Perched at her windowsill, Hermione sipped a hot cup of tea as she gazed upon the desolate, moonlit grounds of Hogwarts. Her anger had subsided as soon as she'd exited the Great Hall, only to be replaced by embarrassment at the emotional outburst. The simple solution would have been to turn around and apologize to Snape, but too humiliated to face the man, she'd decided to return to her quarters for the night.

Absentmindedly searching the sky for constellations, Hermione replayed the incident over and over again in her head, trying to convince herself of the validity of her own behavior. After several nights of little to no sleep, she was extremely irritable, and furthermore, Snape was arguably deserving of her coldness after the way he'd treated her. Following the neo-Death Eater attack, he'd been the one to lash out and storm away from her first. He couldn't be cruel to her one day and expect her to be kind the next. Right?

Hermione sighed, knowing too well that she was attempting to do the impossible. The truth of the matter was that her actions toward Snape went against her character. Her mother had always said, "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."

Standing from the windowsill, Hermione made the decision to visit Snape at his quarters to apologize. Despite her exhaustion, she would not sleep a minute without correcting her wrongdoing, even if it stung to do so. She was still frustrated with the man's evident dislike of her, but her feelings didn't excuse her from being respectful.

Quickly redressing in her robes, Hermione left her quarters to travel to the dungeons, various forms of an apology playing through her head.

* * *

Severus laid in bed, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling as he contemplated how to move forward with his most troublesome colleague. Despite his attempt to be polite at dinner, It seemed that Hermione was still upset by his harshness following the neo-Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade. With the woman unwilling to even speak with him, the daunting task of apologizing to her now seemed impossible.

Peering at the clock, Severus was surprised to realize that it was nearing midnight. With a long day of managing weekend-hungry students ahead of him, he knew that he'd need a full night's worth of sleep to carry him through his classes.

Searching through the wooden drawers of his nightstand, he located the small bottle of Dreamless Sleep Potion he rarely indulged in. Confident that he had no chance of falling asleep without the aid, he took a small swig of the purple liquid he'd brewed himself. A few minutes after he'd finished, he was surprised by a sudden knock at the door.

Already quite drowsy from the well-prepared potion, Severus headed to the door without thinking to redress himself in his robes. Instead, wearing only his gray nightclothes, he opened the door to find Hermione waiting for him, her brows furrowed in disconcertment.

"Hello," she said a bit awkwardly, arms crossed protectively against her chest. "May I come in?"

Suddenly realizing the casual state in which he'd answered the door, Severus felt his cheeks fill with heat. _She is not your student,_ he reminded himself, inwardly. _She is a professor, just like Minerva._

Severus nodded in agreement, stepping aside to allow the young witch inside. Out of every witch and wizard within the castle, she was the last person he'd expected to see again that night.

Taking a seat within one of the plush armchairs, Hermione appeared to be struggling to find the correct way to begin. Severus sat opposite her, waiting patiently for her to communicate everything she needed to say. He assumed that she'd come to berate him for his cruel mistreatment of her, or perhaps to tell him to keep away from her altogether. However, after several tense seconds, he was bewildered by what she'd actually come to express.

"I've come to apologize for my behavior at dinner," she said quietly, eyes fixed downward in shame. "My actions were childish and uncalled for."

Severus stared in astonishment at the guilt-ridden woman, shocked to be receiving an apology of all things. He'd fully expected her to yell at him, maybe even to demand an apology for herself. He was flabbergasted but worked hard not to show it.

"I hope you'll forgive me."

Severus struggled to respond, feeling undeserving of her thoughtful words. Offering the woman his forgiveness would imply that she'd done something out of line when in reality, she'd been rightfully upset with him. Truthfully, he was the one in the wrong.

Severus took a deep breath, forbidding his frustration with her from blowing out of proportion once again.

"Do you forgive me?" Hermione asked louder, ensuring that the man heard her plea.

Forgiving the witch would be an easy way to make amends, but Severus knew that he couldn't continue to take advantage of her kindness. Accepting her apology would only be wronging her once more, leaving him even further indebted to her.

"No," he began, immediately causing an incredulous reaction from the woman. "Let me finish, Hermione."

Right as she was going to protest, Hermione snapped her mouth shut, stunned by the unexpected use of her first name. In all her years of schooling, he'd never addressed her in such a way and had abstained from doing so even after she'd become a professor. Pleased by its effectiveness in silencing her, he continued explaining himself.

"I do not forgive you because there is nothing to forgive," he went on, his voice steady and collected. "Your frustration with me was merited, as well as your actions–"

"No, they were not," Hermione retorted, quickly relocating her voice to correct the man. "Whether I appreciate the way you treat me or not, you are deserving of respect, Professor."

Severus fought hard to repress his increasing irritation, worsened by her infuriating stubbornness. Forcing his features to remain unmoved, he continued on.

"Are you not deserving of respect as well?"

Hermione was taken aback by the question. "I didn't say that I'm not!"

"Well, if you truly feel that way, Hermione, then shouldn't you be demanding an apology rather than delivering one?"

Hermione paused to think, eyes frustrated as she searched through her brain for the correct answer. Severus was familiar with the look, for she'd worn it whenever he'd presented her with a difficult recipe in his Potions classes. Desperate to bring an end to the heated disagreement, Severus, in a moment of boldness, did exactly what he needed to do to finally make amends.

"I'm sorry," he stated clearly, immediately regaining the attention of his visitor.

Hermione looked more stumped than ever before. "What?" she stuttered, unsure of whether she'd misheard the impossible words.

Severus felt his entire insides catch fire, the two simple words destroying every ounce of his pride within a single second. _The woman wants me to repeat myself?_ He thought with utmost horror.

"I–"

"It's okay. I heard you," Hermione interrupted, recognizing the extreme upset she'd caused the man. "I just didn't expect you to say that. Thank you."

The air was heavy, both parties unsure of how to continue. Severus felt a tremendous weight leave his shoulders, yet the embarrassment of humbling himself for the witch prevented him from experiencing any true relief. He couldn't remember the last time he'd genuinely apologized for his wrongdoings, and not because he hadn't often mistreated the people around him. Rather, it'd simply been a matter of preserving his own ego.

As Severus was about to excuse his visitor for the night, Hermione began speaking once more.

"Professor Snape, do you hate me?"

Severus was surprised when the witch asked the question with genuine concern in her eyes. She appeared to truly care about his feelings for her, worried that hatred might be the motive behind his recurring coldness. He recognized that in reality, drawing such a conclusion made perfect sense, yet he inwardly knew that the conclusion didn't carry any truth at all.

Allowing the smallest bit of emotion to shine in his eyes, Severus answered her question with complete honesty.

"No, Hermione. I do not hate you."

Hermione's face relaxed as his words provided her with much-needed relief. Her fears had been eliminated, replaced by what seemed to be hopefulness.

Suddenly, Severus felt a strong kick from his Dreamless Sleep Potion, urgently reminding him to get himself to bed. In moments, it seemed that his eyelids had gained ten pounds and his muscles had melted to total mush. Aware of the potency of his own concoction, he knew that there was no use fighting against the powerful potion.

"Thank you for the chat, Professor," Hermione said warmly, noticing the immense fatigue her company had been overcome with. "I suppose I will see you tomorrow, then."

"Yes. Goodnight…" Severus mumbled, barely formulating a coherent response as the witch made her way to exit.

As the door to his quarters shut quietly behind Hermione, Severus slowly began drifting into a deep sleep, not bothering to move over to his bed. His final thoughts were of Hermione, and how much she'd changed since he'd originally met her. The know-it-all first year who'd first entered Hogwarts over a decade ago had morphed into a grown woman molded by war, love, and tremendous loss. The truth was that he no longer really knew Hermione, for he understood from his own experience that going through such things reshaped a person's identity. If he was going to be successful at maintaining a cordial relationship with the witch, he needed to get to know the person she had become over time. He would have to abandon his old perception of her and open himself to understanding her differently, for the Hermione Granger he thought he knew had drastically transformed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I had a lot of fun with this chapter, so hopefully, all of you enjoyed it.
> 
> Please leave a comment letting me know your thoughts, or even a kudos to let me know that you are liking the fic.
> 
> Much love, friends!


	13. Chapter 13

A small grin played at Hermione's lips as she recalled her conversation with Snape the previous evening. In a moment of boldness, she'd walked to the professor's quarters to offer an apology for her behavior at dinner, hopeful to be pardoned for the emotional outburst. However, Snape had surprised her by refusing her request for forgiveness, expressing that her actions against him were justifiable. Furthermore, he'd countered her apology with one of his own and had even admitted to not hating her.

As Hermione repeatedly replayed the interaction through her head, she every so often feared that the memory had only been a dream. The words I'm sorry coming out of Severus Snape's mouth seemed impossible, yet she was almost certain he'd spoken them to her the previous night. She'd never foreseen the man abandoning his pride to make amends with someone, especially with the Gryffindor best friend of Harry Potter. Nonetheless, he'd set aside his ego to apologize to her, an act she wouldn't easily forget.

That afternoon, Hermione decided to collect a to-go lunch from the Great Hall, excited to enjoy a final day of warmth outside before the onslaught of chilly Fall weather. She sat on a cotton blanket alongside the hauntingly still Black Lake, picking at a plate of fruits and cheeses as she read through a copy of Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration. Several students sat beside the waters as well, gathered in small clusters characterized by a Hogwarts house or year in school. About fifty feet away, however, a larger group of eleven or twelve students stood huddled in a circle, appearing to have little to nothing in common. After watching for a few seconds, she noticed a small blonde witch standing in their midst, animatedly talking about something serious.

Curiosity getting the best of her, Hermione decided to move within eavesdropping distance. While Mathilda was probably simply discussing classes or answering questions about homework, meeting with a bunch of school children of various ages and houses next to the lake seemed a bit strange. Had the woman not acted so oddly in their interaction a few nights prior, Hermione would likely have ignored the sighting.

Doing her best to remain unnoticed, Hermione quietly left her picnic to sneak behind a large boulder close to Mathilda's cluster of students. Successfully making it to the hiding spot without drawing attention, she listened in on the soft-spoken conversation.

"...have to make it happen tonight if we really want to impress them," the professor pressed urgently, earning several nervous looks from her onlookers.

"What if we get caught, though?" a particularly anxious-looking Ravenclaw asked, earning an eye roll from Mathilda. "Professor McGonagall is sure to expel us!"

"You're not going to be caught, Margaret. As I said, the professors will be eating dinner in the Great Hall while everything is happening. The only way you'll be found out is if one of you is stupid enough to open your mouth about the plan."

An older Slytherin spoke up next. "And the Mudbloods? What if they don't show up?"

Mathilda appeared irritated by the question as if she had a hundred things she'd rather be doing then answering it. "Everyone we discussed was sent an invitation. Surely enough of them will show up for the plan to be worthwhile. Now, does anyone else have a question I haven't explained already?"

Mathilda grinned with satisfaction as the group remained silent, some appearing excited while a few looked close to vomiting.

"Brilliant. I looked forward to hearing about your success later tonight."

With that, the professor left the group of students to themselves, walking merrily with her typical bouncy gait toward the castle. After a few more minutes of discussion, the children slowly started heading off in various directions, leaving a bewildered Hermione alone behind the boulder.

The witch could hardly believe what she'd just witnessed. From what she'd heard of the conversation, it seemed that Mathilda was leading the students in an attack against Muggle-borns. That, or something else worthy of getting them expelled.

Rushing from her hiding place to collect her things, Hermione stuffed everything she'd left laid out into her charmed handbag and hastily made her way to the castle. She needed to inform McGonagall of the plan, and quickly.

Severus and Minerva sat in silence at the High Table as they each enjoyed the food they'd served themselves. The Great Hall was noticeably empty that afternoon, for the weather outside was particularly nice for a late-September day. Regardless, the two professors had both chosen to enjoy the rare opportunity of a quiet lunch inside, utilizing the time to refuel for their afternoon responsibilities.

As Severus finished his final bite of food, he noticed Hermione enter the Great Hall, conspicuous distress written across her features. The sight of the woman sent him back to their conversation the previous night, immediately causing his heart rate to skyrocket. He still felt uncomfortable with his decision to apologize but stood by the choice nonetheless. The tension between them had finally been eased, meaning that he was much closer to bringing up the events of that night at the Battle of Hogwarts.

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione began frantically as she arrived at the High Table. "I need to speak with you. Urgently."

Minerva, highly contrasting the flustered witch, remained calm as she responded."What is it, Dear? Is it something Professor Snape might care to hear as well?"

Hermione paused to consider the idea before continuing, evidently agreeing to involve the man.

"I overheard Professor Sweetleaf talking with a bunch of students. They were discussing something along the lines of attacking Muggle-born students," Hermione explained, her words almost too quick to follow. "They plan to do it tonight during dinner."

Severus turned to Minerva for her reaction, unsure of what he would see. The older witch remained silent for several seconds, absorbing Hermione's words with an unreadable expression. When it seemed as though she was never going to respond, the headmistress finally spoke up.

"When did you hear of this, Hermione?"

"Just now near the lake. I saw her talking with a bunch of students and… well, I decided to listen in."

Minerva took a moment to consider her words once more, allowing Severus the opportunity to speak up.

"And what is it that compelled you to eavesdrop, Professor?" he asked slowly, earning an embarrassed look from the younger witch.

Anxious to dissolve any idea of her being nosy, Hermione explained herself.

"The other day when I was leaving the library, I came across Mathilda. She was very… not herself," she began, unsure of how to describe the woman's behavior. "She was wandering the castle alone in the middle of the night and seemed quite upset to be discovered."

Minerva listened intently, her brows furrowed as she calculated everything she was being told. Hermione went on.

"Ever since that night, I've been suspicious of her. So when I saw her having a serious conversation with a random group of students by the lake, I couldn't help but listen in."

Minerva nodded as Hermione concluded her pitch, taking a long sip of tea before asking her next question.

"Did you hear where these students will be holding their attack?"

Hermione's shoulders drooped as she realized she hadn't acquired the important detail. "No, I didn't," she admitted sadly, eyes downcast with disappointment. "I was only able to hear the last bit of the conversation."

The headmistress, however, appeared unbothered by the lack of information.

"Thank you, Hermione, for reporting this to me," the older witch said warmly, offering an affirming grin. "This evening, I would like for each of you to patrol the castle while the rest of the school eats dinner. I trust that together, you'll be able to handle whatever you might come across."

Severus was taken aback by the sudden responsibility Minerva had thrown at him. He felt his cheeks fill with heat as he imagined himself walking the halls of Hogwarts with Hermione Granger that evening. While things between them had significantly improved the previous night, the prospect of being alone with the witch for over an hour was overwhelming. The escapade promised to be painstakingly awkward.

"Of course, Professor," Hermione agreed, fists clenched with determination. She seemed quite unconcerned about spending the extra time with him.

Minerva turned to Severus, awaiting a response with that damned twinkle of mischief in her eye.

Severus sighed, standing from his seat to leave the Great Hall.

"Yes, Minerva," he agreed calmly, fighting to uphold his appearance of indifference. "We will take care of it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm so pumped to FINALLY be getting into the meat of this story.
> 
> As always, your comments are what keep me writing this fic. They make the writing process way more bearable.
> 
> Much love, Muggle friends.


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione met Snape at the foot of the Grand Staircase at six o'clock, just as the student body was beginning to eat their dinner. The man appeared to be bored, unconcerned by what they could possibly find during their search of the castle. She, on the other hand, was anxiously struggling to keep her heart from beating out of her chest. She was terrified to discover what Mathilda had planned for the evening.

"Hello," Hermione said with obvious nervousness in her voice. Snape nodded to her curtly, eyes following a pair of stray students as they rushed to make the meal on time. As soon as they'd passed, he turned to return the greeting.

"Hello, Professor. Let's be on our way."

"Right," Hermione agreed, swiftly turning to follow Snape down to the dungeons. Quickly, she realized that she'd have to nearly jog to keep up with the man's long strides. Not only were his legs much longer than hers, but his gait was also naturally faster. Fortunately, after a few corridors of her struggling, the wizard took notice and slowed his pace.

"How do they plan to lure the Muggle-borns to their attack?" Snape asked, breaking the silence after several minutes of quiet wandering.

Hermione tried to recall each detail she'd overheard. "All I know is that they sent several Muggle-born students an invitation. I couldn't tell you what they were for, though."

Snape nodded, his gaze calculating as they finished their sweep of the castle's lowest floor. "We'll save a lot of time by getting our hands on one of the invitations. I'll let us into the Slytherin common room to search for one."

Hermione hadn't thought of the idea, but it certainly beat investigating each and every inch of Hogwarts. The man definitely had the resourceful mind of a Slytherin.

After rounding a few corners, they arrived at the bare stretch of stone wall which hid the entrance to the Slytherin Dungeon. Curiosity flooded the witch as she considered what it might look like inside, for she'd missed out on Harry and Ron's escapade there during her second year of school. Her friends had offered her a minimal description of the interior, but seeing the room for herself would finally fulfil her sense of wonder.

" _Emerald_ ," Snape spoke to the disguised entrance. In obedience, a passageway granting access to the common room revealed itself.

"After you," the wizard offered politely. Hermione, giving small, appreciative grin, stepped forward to lead the way.

The common room was both similar and completely different from what she'd imagined. Its walls maintained a dungeon-like look, adorned with tapestries conveying the adventures of famous Medieval Slytherins. Greenish lamps and chairs were scattered about the room, as well as leather sofas and dark wooden furnishings. The light in the room had a greenish tinge, reminding the witch that it was partially underwater. The atmosphere was quite grand but lacked the feeling of warmness she'd loved about Gryffindor Tower. To Hermione, it didn't feel like a home.

"Not impressed, I see," Snape commented before embarking on his search for an invitation. Hermione's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, for she didn't want to come across as rude.

"It's not that! I guess it's just not what I'm used to," she explained, hoping to convince the man of her reasoning. "Gryffindor's common room is very different."

"I would imagine," Snape replied a little snidely, picking up a school bag that had been lazily discarded to the floor. Sifting through its contents, his hand quickly emerged with an opened envelope stuffed with a letter. "We are in luck, Professor."

Hermione ran to the wizard excitedly, hopeful that they'd discovered a lead to the attack.

_Dear Ms. McGowan,_

_Congratulations! You have been selected as a worthy candidate for membership in Hogwart's greatest, most honorable club. While we can not yet provide you with any information regarding the nature of this confidential organization, we look forward to enlightening you at a private dinner. Please join us this Friday, September 29th, at 6:30 in classroom 22b._

_Sincerely,_

_The N.D.E. of Hogwarts_

Hermione stared in disgust at the impressively deceptive letter. The curly font it was written in was extremely convincing, for upon first glance she'd truly believed it to be the headmistress's handwriting. Had she received such an invitation as a student, she'd surely have accepted it without a second thought. She was confident that the trick had been successful and that right then, several students were one their way to being ambushed.

"Neo-Death Eaters of Hogwarts," Snape muttered quietly, gaze directed at the signature of the letter.

As Hermione felt the soft tickle of Snape's breath against her cheek, she suddenly realized just how close to the man she'd gotten while reading the invitation. Their faces were within inches of each other, but it seemed that she was the only one aware of the close proximity. Heart rate skyrocketing, she frantically jumped backward to quickly create some space.

"We need to hurry," Snape insisted, oblivious to the witch's moment of panic. "The Muggle-borns should be arriving there in less than five minutes."

Hermione nodded in agreement, hoping her reddened cheeks had returned to normal before the man could notice. She didn't want to explain why she was suddenly a flustered, blushing mess.

Snape stuffed the letter into an inner pocket of his robes, turning to lead the way out of the common room. The pair hastily walked through the lengthy dungeon corridors, arriving at the entrance hall with only a couple of minutes to spare. Expecting to climb the Grand Staircase to the second floor, Hermione was surprised when the wizard led them in a different direction.

"Shortcut," he shortly explained before she needed to ask.

Unsurprisingly, the castle had yet another secret passageway she was unenlightened about. Halfway down one of the nearby corridors, Snape stopped and then began making slow, calculated steps across the floor. To Hermione, there didn't appear to be any consistent pattern, but after around ten carefully considered steps, a set of stairs grew out of the ground.

"Let's go," Snape urged the witch, snapping her out of her amazement. "This will take us directly to it."

Sure enough, the magical stairway provided immediate access to the outside of classroom 22b. Hermione looked around urgently, expecting to see Muggle-born students heading in their direction with plans of attending a private dinner. She was shocked, however, to be faced with a completely desolate corridor, save for the professor beside her.

Not stopping to consider the strange absence of students, Snape continued toward the classroom, ripping open its door with his wand at the ready. Hermione quickly followed him, entering the small room unsure of what she might find within.

Snape immediately turned back to her, annoyance in his dark gaze. "Empty," he declared with exasperation. "They knew we were coming."

Hermione's shoulders fell in defeat as she looked around the room for herself. "How is this possible?" she asked aloud, furiously racking her brain for an explanation. "Who could've tipped them off?"

"It doesn't matter. We've underestimated them," Snape admitted, brows furrowed as he crossed his arms against his chest. "We're going to have to take a different approach."

"Like what?" Hermione asked, trying to remain calm as the frustration of their failed plan came down on her.

"We will go to the Great Hall. You will point out the students you saw with Mathilda earlier, and I will handle them," he explained matter-of-factly, turning to exit the classroom decidedly.

Hermione remained still, unsure of what "handling" them meant. However, as soon as she realized Snape wasn't stopping to wait for her, she rushed to catch up with the determined man.

"Okay," she agreed, once again struggling to keep up with his speed. "As long as you're the one doing the interrogating."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment to let me know your thoughts. Much love, friends!


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